


The Five Love Languages: Hijinks, Murder, Nudity, Penance, and Snark

by resolute



Category: Killjoys (TV)
Genre: Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 03:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13022601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resolute/pseuds/resolute
Summary: The team spends an evening at Pree's bar after a successful mission; hijinks ensue





	The Five Love Languages: Hijinks, Murder, Nudity, Penance, and Snark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oanja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oanja/gifts).



There are some callings that are more alike than a person might think. Physician and mechanic. Lawyer and engineer. Lover and priest. Pree had anticipated that owning a small business had much in common with being a criminal warlord. Supply chains. Staffing concerns. Serving clients who may take offense at your professional opinion and express that offense with violence. Clients such as the very violently intoxicated miner now leaving the bar.

"And Pawter's out of town, sunshine," Pree called as the miner's friends hauled his bleeding body out the front doors. "So you'll have to find some other street doc!"

But if owning a business sometimes called for the harsher tactics of his past, Pree relished the moments when it gave him opportunities he'd rarely had before. He walked back behind the bar's scarred counter and raised an eyebrow as his … well, he might as well admit it, his favorite Killjoy team pushed through the swinging panels of the front door. Dutch looked smug, Johnny was talking at near-light speed, and D'avin rolled his hips as he walked in, like a man with only one thing on his mind. Pree made sure the Motivator stunner under the bar was loaded and charged, and began pouring drinks.

Part 1: Johnny

"My point is, it's not impossible!" Johnny leaned forward with his drink, staring intently at Pree. "It should be, but it's not!" He set the tumbler down, raising the index fingers of each hand. "All we have to do is close the gap between what we know -- " he shook one finger, " -- and what we don't know!" He shook the other finger. Then, with excruciating focus, he slowly brought his fingers together.

"Mm-hmm," Pree replied. He hadn't been following the technical aspects of the conversation, and didn't intend to. "Does Lucy think you can figure this out?"

"Oh, Lucy," Johnny said, a big goofy grin on his face. He finished his drink in one gulp. "Lucy is the best. She'll do, she'll -- " He leaned forward again. "I'm pretty sure she loves me, Pree," Johnny whispered loudly. "But don't tell."

Pree picked the glass from Johnny's inattentive grasp. "Sugar, that's not a secret," he replied. "The whole RAC knows you love her, too. That ship, pardon the expression, has sailed." 

"I do love her," Johnny said quietly. Pree glanced up at him. Johnny was still very drunk, but his face was serious. "I love that ship like a sister. The sister I don't have. Unless," he added, squinting at the hypotheticals, "Unless she's like my brother. Do I love D'avin more than Lucy, or Lucy more than D'avin?" Johnny faced Pree with an expression of alcohol-soaked revelation. "I love them BOTH!" he exclaimed, swinging his arms wide.

Pree laughed out loud. "Congratulations!" he said. He poured Jaqobis another drink, chuckling.

Part 2: Dutch

Pree watched Dutch half-step, half-dance her way towards the bar. She spun around a swaying patron and set her glass down with a gentle tap. "One more, if you would, Pree," she said.

"Anything for you, honey," Pree reached for Dutch's usual. 

"No," she said, interrupting him. "The Royal, tonight, please."

Pree raised an eyebrow. He poured the deep-golden, very expensive, drink. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"I'm celebrating." Dutch replied with the owlish concentration of the very intoxicated. "With the information we collected today, we're one more step closer to solving Level Six." She raised the glass. Pree picked up his own, far-less-alcoholic, drink. "To getting the job done." She sipped the liqueur slowly. "The warrant is all."

A nearby patron lifted her head from the bar and mumbled out "th wrrnt izall" in reply. Pree raised an eyebrow, eternally bemused by how easily people can be indoctrinated. A trait, he reminded himself, he had used to his own advantage in the past.

"Are you celebrating Lady Luck or your team?" Pree heard himself asking. It wasn't the sort of question he typically indulged. To begin with, some people would take a great deal of offense. Also, and more problematic, though, was whether or not he wanted to know the answer.

"My team," Dutch answered levelly. She sat up very straight, almost regal. "My team is the only good thing in this world, Pree." Her voice was quiet, almost hypnotic. Pree found he was leaning forward to hear her. "They are the only thing I love."

There was something in the moment that invited taking a chance. Pree was very, very good at reading moments. "The only thing?" he asked quietly. "Not even yourself?"

"Not if I'm not on the team," Dutch replied. She met his gaze steadily. In her eyes, Pree saw the sort of thing he'd hoped to leave behind when he opened a bar. He saw the absolute certainty of a person who knows the entire value of their life, and intends to spend it.

He had to look away.

"To your team," Pree agreed, and raised his glass again. Dutch drank to it, and grinned impishly. She turned to face the other patrons. "Now, who's going to dance with me?" she called out over the music, and moved away to find a partner.

Part 3: D'avin

D'avin leaned over the bar. "Have you seen my shirt?" he said again.

"I heard you the first time, princess," Pree said, "I was just taking a moment to admire the scenery." He pursed his lips at the half-naked RAC agent. "Are you completely sure … " Pree's voice trailed off suggestively as he made a vague you-and-me motion with one finger.

"Thank you for the compliment," D'avin said, "But I'm completely sure." He grinned, the boyish expression that made children and the naive want to help him with anything he asked. "You know I'm not up to your standards, anyway."

Pree waved away the joke. "P'shaw," he said, rolling his eyes. "I think I saw your clothes walk out of here a little while ago, on a shaven-headed, female, mercenary-looking type."

"And you didn't stop her?" D'avin raised his eyebrows, a worried expression on his face. "I need what's in my pockets, and my pockets have walked away."

"I don't get between my customers and true love," Pree replied. "Who's to say you didn't give her your clothes out of your deep commitment to a future together?"

"I only have one future," D'avin replied. "I die standing in front of something good, trying to kill something terrible." He smiled again, a smile that pretended to be his happy-go-lucky grin but was thinner and wiser. "Yesterday that was Dutch and Lucy and Johnny on one side, a truckload of saboteurs on the other. I don't think Angelina and my clothes are figuring into that equation much." 

Pree nodded. "That's a future I've seen for myself, now and then," he agreed. "So it's not True Love that walked off with your pockets?"

D'avin snorted. "I love exactly three things, Pree." He tapped the bar for luck as he headed for the swinging doors. "My brother, my freedom, and a good enough cause." D'avin waved as he walked away. "Let me know if you see my clothes!"

Part 4: Alvis

Alvis leaned heavily on the bar. He looked dazed. He was clean, his hair slicked back tightly, his robes still damp. Pree passed him a bowl of stew and a mug of purified water.

Alvis looked up. "Thank you, Pree." He began eating carefully, savoring each bite of the food that Pree knew to be absolutely mediocre.

"Happy to help," Pree said. Jocular voices called him down the bar, and by the time he returned, Alvis had finished eating. The Scarback sat a little straighter. Pree nodded firmly and cleared the dish.

"Tea, if you have it?" Alvis asked.

"Well," Pree said, "I have what someone is selling as if it's tea. Will that do?"

Alvis nodded. "Beggars can only choose what's offered."

Pree poured near-scalding water over a pressed cube of possibly-tea. Alvis took the cup gratefully and inhaled the scent. He closed his eyes in what might have been prayer.

"Tough night?" Pree asked.

"No," Alvis replied slowly. He sipped the tea, then set the cup down and opened his eyes. "Do you know what it is we Scarbacks do?"

"Of course," Pree said. "You bleed for other people's sins."

Alvis tilted his head in a considering gesture. "Not exactly. Mostly, yes, but not exactly. When you tell me something, I take the burden of remembering from you."

Pree raised an eyebrow. "Does that work?"

"When you tell me something that's causing you pain, I cut that pain into my body. I take the pain, and as you watch me, it becomes mine. When you remember it in the future, you also remember that someone else has paid the price. You can live your life unburdened by the pain of loss, grief, guilt, or anger, because you know someone cares for you enough to suffer in your place." Alvis's expression lit up as he talked, his eyes bright. He leaned forward, urging Pree to understand.

Pree waved his hand at the fresh bandage on Alvis's arm. "So that's … "

"Love," Alvis said. He smiled and picked up his tea. "That's the love we Scarbacks have for all of you on Westerly."

Pree snorted in laughter. "Not how I tend to show my love, but you do you, Alvis. No wonder you and Dutch get along."

"How do you mean?" Alvis asked.

Pree paused, wondering suddenly if he'd already said too much. "You both speak the same language when it comes to love."

"Ah." Alvis nodded, and looked across the bar to where Dutch was dancing. "That. Yes," he added after a moment, "I think we do. And how do you show love, Pree?"

The question wasn't one Pree would tolerate from most people. Alvis, though? Pree didn't feel that Alvis was likely to use the answer against him. He stalled, pouring more tea while he put his thoughts in order. Alvis waited quietly, patiently, a good listener. "I protect my own," Pree said. "Whether that's letting Johnny ramble, stocking tea for you, finding D'avin's lost clothes, or giving Dutch room to be honest. Finding what folks need and getting it for them. That's my way."

"It's not a bad way," Alvis replied.

"Speaking of," Pree said, "Excuse me just a tic." With utmost nonchalance, Pree picked up the Motivator from under the bar. It was, indeed, fully charged, its business end sparking quietly. He crossed the bar-room's floor in ten long strides and stunned the shaven-headed merc talking urgently to a rather unsavory bounty hunter. "Beg your pardon, folks, I just need one moment-- " Pree rummaged under the merc's coat and pulled D'avin's shirt free. He patted the pockets, frowned, then checked the woman's hands. "There," he said in satisfaction. He collected the data module from the groaning merc and nodded politely to the bounty hunter. "Drinks on me for you and your friends tonight," he added. 

Pree walked back to the bar, humming cheerfully to himself. He passed D'avin and Johnny and placed the data and shirt on the table between them. "On the house, boys," he said.

Alvis saluted Pree with his teacup as Pree returned to his place behind the bar. Pree waved the salute away in mock irritation. "Just don't tell them," he said, looking at Dutch's Killjoy crew. "Can't let it get out that I've gone soft."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Alvis replied, smiling. "Wouldn't dream of it."


End file.
